September 30, 2010

A Conversation At Dawn

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


--Description: 20th C, Hardy T., Disillusion, Forgiveness, Love, Marriage-- 
 
He lay awake, with a harassed air,
And she, in her cloud of loose lank hair,
Seemed trouble-tried
As the dawn drew in on their faces there.

The chamber looked far over the sea
From a white hotel on a white-stoned quay,
And stepping a stride
He parted the window-drapery.

Above the level horizon spread
The sunrise, firing them foot to head
From its smouldering lair,
And painting their pillows with dyes of red.

'What strange disquiets have stirred you, dear,
This dragging night, with starts in fear
Of me, as it were,
Or of something evil hovering near?'

'My husband, can I have fear of you?
What should one fear from a man whom few,
Or none, had matched
In that late long spell of delays undue!'

He watched her eyes in the heaving sun:
'Then what has kept, O reticent one,
Those lids unlatched —
Anything promised I've not yet done?'

'O its not a broken promise of yours
(For what quite lightly your lip assures
The due time brings)
That has troubled my sleep, and no waking cures!'…

'I have shaped my will; 'tis at hand,' said he;
'I subscribe it to-day, that no risk there be
In the hap of things
Of my leaving you menaced by poverty.'

'That a boon provision I'm safe to get,
Signed, sealed by my lord as it were a debt,
I cannot doubt,
Or ever this peering sun be set.'

'But you flung my arms away from your side,
And faced the wall. No month-old bride
Ere the tour be out
In an air so loth can be justified?

'Ah — had you a male friend once loved well,
Upon whose suit disaster fell
And frustrance swift?
Honest you are, and may care to tell.'

She lay impassive, and nothing broke
The stillness other than, stroke by stroke,
The lazy lift
Of the tide below them; till she spoke:

'I once had a friend — a Love, if you will —
Whose wife forsook him, and sank until
She was made a thrall
In a prison-cell for a deed of ill….

'He remained alone; and we met — to love,
But barring legitimate joy thereof Stood a doorless wall,
Though we prized each other all else above.

'And this was why, though I'd touched my prime,
I put off suitors from time to time —
Yourself with the rest —
Till friends, who approved you, called it crime,

'And when misgivings weighed on me
In my lover's absence, hurriedly,
And much distrest,
I took you…. Ah, that such could be!…

'Now, saw you when crossing from yonder shore
At yesternoon, that the packet bore
On a white-wreathed bier
A coffined body towards the fore?

'Well, while you stood at the other end,
The loungers talked, and I could but lend
A listening ear,
For they named the dead. 'Twas the wife of my friend.

'He was there, but did not note me, veiled,
Yet I saw that a joy, as of one unjailed,
Now shone in his gaze;
He knew not his hope of me just had failed!

'They had brought her home: she was born in this isle;
And he will return to his domicile,
And pass his days
Alone, and not as he dreamt erstwhile!'

'— So you've lost a sprucer spouse than I!'
She held her peace, as if fain deny
She would indeed
For his pleasure's sake, but could lip no lie.

'One far less formal and plain and slow!'
She let the laconic assertion go
As if of need
She held the conviction that it was so.

'Regard me as his he always should,
He had said, and wed me he vowed he would
In his prime or sere
Most verily do, if ever he could.

'And this fulfilment is now his aim,
For a letter, addressed in my maiden name,
Has dogged me here,
Reminding me faithfully of his claim.

'And it started a hope like a lightning-streak
That I might go to him — say for a week —
And afford you right
To put me away, and your vows unspeak.

'To be sure you have said, as of dim intent,
That marriage is a plain event
Of black and white,
Without any ghost of sentiment,

'And my heart has quailed. — But deny it true
That you will never this lock undo!
No God intends
To thwart the yearning He's father to!'

The husband sneered, then blandly bowed
In the light of the angry morning cloud.
'So my idyll ends,
And a drama opens!' he mused aloud;

And his features froze. 'You may take it as true
That I will never this lock undo
For so depraved
A passion as that which kindles you.'

Said she: 'I am sorry you see it so;
I had hoped you might have let me go,
And thus been saved
The pain of learning there's more to know.'

'More? What may that be? Gad, I think
You have told me enough to make me blink!
Yet if more remain
Then own it to me. I will not shrink!'

'Well, it is this. As we could not see
That a legal marriage could ever be,
To end our pain
We united ourselves informally;

'And vowed at a chancel-altar nigh,
With book and ring, a lifelong tie;
A contract vain
To the world, but real to Him on High.'

'And you became as his wife?' — 'I did.' —
He stood as stiff as a caryatid,
And said, 'Indeed!…
No matter. You're mine, whatever you've hid!'

'But is it right! When I only gave
My hand to you in a sweat to save,
Through desperate need
(As I thought), my fame, for I was not brave!'

'To save your fame? Your meaning is dim,
For nobody knew of your altar-whim?'
'I mean — I feared
There might be fruit of my tie with him;

'And to cloak it by marriage I'm not the first,
Though, maybe, morally most accurst
Through your unpeered
And strict uprightness. That's the worst!

'While yesterday his worn contours
Convinced me that love like his endures,
And that my troth-plight
Had been his, in fact, and not truly yours.'

'So, my lady, you raise the veil by degrees….
I own this last is enough to freeze
The warmest wight!
Now hear the other side, if you please:

'I did say once, though without intent,
That marriage is a plain event
Of black and white,
Whatever may be its sentiment.

'I'll act accordingly, none the less
That you soiled the contract in time of stress,
Thereto induced
By the feared results of your wantonness.

'But the thing is over, and no one knows,
And its nought to the future what you disclose.
That you'll be loosed
For such an episode, don't suppose!

'No: I'll not free you. And if it appear
There was too good ground for your first fear
From your amorous tricks,
I'll father the child. Yes, by God, my dear.

'Even should you fly to his arms, I'll damn
Opinion, and fetch you; treat as sham
Your mutinous kicks,
And whip you home. That's the sort I am!'

She whitened. 'Enough…. Since you disapprove
I'll yield in silence, and never move
Till my last pulse ticks
A footstep from the domestic groove.'

'Then swear it,' he said, 'and your king uncrown.
He drew her forth in her long white gown,
And she knelt and swore.
'Good. Now you may go and again lie down.

'Since you've played these pranks and given no sign,
You shall crave this man of yours; pine and pine
With sighings sore,
'Till I've starved your love for him; nailed you mine.

'I'm a practical man, and want no tears;
You've made a fool of me, it appears;
That you don't again
Is a lesson I'll teach you in future years.'

She answered not, but lay listlessly
With her dark dry eyes on the coppery sea,
That now and then
Flung its lazy flounce at the neighbouring quay.


Thomas Hardy

--Did You Know: (2 June 1840 – 11 January 1928) Hardy was an English novelist and poet of the naturalist movement, although in several poems he displays elements of the previous romantic and enlightenment periods of literature, such as his fascination with the supernatural. He regarded himself primarily as a poet and composed novels mainly for financial gain. The bulk of his work, set mainly in the semi-fictional land of Wessex, delineates characters struggling against their passions and circumstances. Hardy's poetry, first published in his 50s, has come to be as well regarded as his novels, especially after The Movement of the 1950s and 1960s. The term "cliffhanger" is considered to have originated with Thomas Hardy's novel A Pair of Blue Eyes. In this novel Henry Knight, one of his protagonists, is left literally hanging off a cliff. Thomas Hardy was born at Higher Bockhampton, a hamlet in the parish of Stinsford to the east of Dorchester in Dorset, England. His father (Thomas) worked as a stonemason and local builder. His mother Jemima was well-read and educated Thomas until he went to his first school at Bockhampton at age eight. Read more at: Thomas Hardy

--Word of the Day: tarradiddle \tair-uh-DID-uhl\, noun
1. A petty falsehood; a fib.
2. Pretentious nonsense.
Example:
-- "Taxation in the parallel universe", Sunday Business, June 11, 2000
Mr B did not tell a whopper. This was no fib, plumper, porker or tarradiddle. There was definitely no deceit, mendacity or fabrication.
"Looking back", Western Mail, May 11, 2002

--Quote of the Day: Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood
Pin It

September 28, 2010

A Charm

Bookmark and Share


Pin It

 --Description: 2, Kipling R., Encouragement, Nature, Patriotism-- 

 
Take of english earth as much
as either hand may rightly clutch.
In the taking of it breathe
prayer for all who lie beneath.
Not the great nor well-bespoke,
but the mere uncounted folk
of whose life and death is none
report or lamentation.
Lay that earth upon thy heart,
and thy sickness shall depart!

It shall sweeten and make whole
fevered breath and festered soul.
It shall mightily restrain
over-busied hand and brain.
It shall ease thy mortal strife
'gainst the immortal woe of life,
till thyself, restored, shall prove
by what grace the Heavens do move.

Take of english flowers these —
spring's full-vaced primroses,
summer's wild wide-hearted rose,
autumn's wall-flower of the close,
and, thy darkness to illume,
winter's bee-thronged ivy-bloom.
Seek and serve them where they bide
from candlemas to christmas-tide,
for these simples, used aright,
can restore a failing sight.

These shall cleanse and purify
webbed and inward-turning eye;
these shall show thee treasure hid,
thy familiar fields amid;
and reveal (which is thy need)
every man a king indeed!


Rudyard Kipling

--Did You Know: (30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936) Kipling was a British author and poet. Born in Bombay, in British India, he is best known for his works of fiction The Jungle Book (1894) (a collection of stories which includes Rikki-Tikki-Tavi), Kim (1901) (a tale of adventure), many short stories, including The Man Who Would Be King (1888); and his poems, including Mandalay (1890), Gunga Din (1890), and If— (1910). He is regarded as a major "innovator in the art of the short story"; his children's books are enduring classics of children's literature; and his best works speak to a versatile and luminous narrative gift. Kipling was one of the most popular writers in English, in both prose and verse, in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The author Henry James said of him: "Kipling strikes me personally as the most complete man of genius (as distinct from fine intelligence) that I have ever known." In 1907, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, making him the first English language writer to receive the prize, and to date he remains its youngest recipient. Among other honours, he was sounded out for the British Poet Laureateship and on several occasions for a knighthood, all of which he declined. Read more at: Rudyard Kipling

--Word of the Day: fractious \FRAK-shuhs\, adjective:
1. Tending to cause trouble; unruly.
2. Irritable; snappish; cranky.
Example:
In Marshall's case, the experience of dealing with a clamorous band of younger siblings, earning their affection and respect while holding them to their tasks, proved remarkably useful in later years when dealing with fractious colleagues jealous of their prerogatives.
-- Jean Edward Smith, John Marshall: Definer of a Nation

--Quote of the Day: "Growth takes place in a person by working at a deep inner level in a sustained atmosphere of silence."
-- Dr. Ira Progoff

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood
Pin It

September 25, 2010

Autumn Song

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


--Description: 19th C, Rossetti Dante G., Nature, Seasons-- 


 
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

And how the swift beat of the brain
Falters because it is in vain,
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf
Knowest thou not? and how the chief
Of joys seems--not to suffer pain?

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the soul feels like a dried sheaf
Bound up at length for harvesting,
And how death seems a comely thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?


Dante Gabriel Rossetti


--Did You Know: (12 May 1828 – 9 April 1882) Rossetti was an English poet, illustrator, painter and translator. He was one of the founders of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood in 1848 and was later to be the main inspiration for second generation of artists and writers influenced by the movement. He was also a major precursor of the Aesthetic movement. Rossetti's art was characterised by its sensuality and its medieval revivalism. His early poetry was influenced by Keats. His later poetry was characterised by the complex interlinking of thought and feeling, especially in his sonnet sequence The House of Life. Rossetti's personal life was closely linked to his work, especially his relationships with his models and muses Elizabeth Siddal and Jane Morris. Read more at .... Dante Rossetti

--Word of the Day: inexorable \in-EK-sur-uh-bul; in-EKS-ruh-bul\, adjective:
Not to be persuaded or moved by entreaty or prayer; firm; determined; unyielding; unchangeable; inflexible; relentless.
Example:
But the idea of providence, whether the biblical version or the Enlightenment's or Marx's, is at bottom a tragic notion, for it implies that individual human choices count for nothing against the weight of an inexorable, overwhelming force, whether benign or cruel, whether known as God, History, Destiny, Progress or DNA.
-- James Carrol, "Laughing Our Way to Defeat", New York Times, February 16, 1986

--Quote of the Day: "My greatest wealth is the deep stillness in which I strive and grow and win what the world cannot take from me with fire or sword."
-- Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood
Pin It

September 22, 2010

Afternoon in School

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


 --Description: 20th C, Lawrence D.H., Childhood, Children, Memories--


When will the bell ring, and end this weariness?
How long have they tugged the leash, and strained apart
My pack of unruly hounds: I cannot start
Them again on a quarry of knowledge they hate to hunt,
I can haul them and urge them no more.
No more can I endure to bear the brunt
Of the books that lie out on the desks: a full three score
Of several insults of blotted pages and scrawl
Of slovenly work that they have offered me.
I am sick, and tired more than any thrall
Upon the woodstacks working weariedly.

And shall I take
The last dear fuel and heap it on my soul
Till I rouse my will like a fire to consume
Their dross of indifference, and burn the scroll
Of their insults in punishment? - I will not!
I will not waste myself to embers for them,
Not all for them shall the fires of my life be hot,
For myself a heap of ashes of weariness, till sleep
Shall have raked the embers clear: I will keep
Some of my strength for myself, for if I should sell
It all for them, I should hate them -
- I will sit and wait for the bell.



D. H. Lawrence

--Did You Know: (11 September 1885 – 2 March 1930) Lawrence was an English author, poet, playwright, essayist and literary critic. His collected works represent an extended reflection upon the dehumanising effects of modernity and industrialisation. In them, Lawrence confronts issues relating to emotional health and vitality, spontaneity, human sexuality and instinct. Lawrence's opinions earned him many enemies and he endured official persecution, censorship, and misrepresentation of his creative work throughout the second half of his life, much of which he spent in a voluntary exile he called his "savage pilgrimage." At the time of his death, his public reputation was that of a pornographer who had wasted his considerable talents. E. M. Forster, in an obituary notice, challenged this widely held view, describing him as, "The greatest imaginative novelist of our generation." Later, the influential Cambridge critic F. R. Leavis championed both his artistic integrity and his moral seriousness, placing much of Lawrence's fiction within the canonical "great tradition" of the English novel. Lawrence is now generally valued as a visionary thinker and significant representative of modernism in English literature, although some feminists object to the attitudes toward women and sexuality found in his works. Read more at: D. H. Lawrence

--Word of the Day: vivify \VIV-uh-fy\, transitive verb:
1. To endue with life; to make alive; to animate.
2. To make more lively or intense.
Example:
Can the writer isolate and vivify all in experience that most deeply engages our intellects and our hearts?
-- Annie Dillard, "Write Till You Drop", New York Times, May 28, 1989

--Quote of the Day: Laziness may appear attractive, but work gives satisfaction.
- Anne Frank

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood
Pin It

September 20, 2010

A Naughty Little Comet

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


--Description: 20th C, Wilcox E.E., Celestial, Children, Humor, Nature-- 

 
There was a little comet who lived near the Milky Way!
She loved to wander out at night and jump about and play.

The mother of the comet was a very good old star;
She used to scold her reckless child for venturing out too far.

She told her of the ogre, Sun, who loved on stars to sup,
And who asked no better pastime than in gobbling comets up.

But instead of growing cautious and of showing proper fear,
The foolish little comet edged up nearer, and more near.

She switched her saucy tail along right where the Sun could see,
And flirted with old Mars, and was as bold as bold could be.

She laughed to scorn the quiet stars who never frisked about;
She said there was no fun in life unless you ventured out.

She liked to make the planets stare, and wished no better mirth
Than just to see the telescopes aimed at her from the Earth.

She wondered how so many stars could mope through nights and days,
And let the sickly faced old Moon get all the love and praise.

And as she talked and tossed her head and switched her shining trail
The staid old mother star grew sad, her cheek grew wan and pale.

For she had lived there in the skies a million years or more,
And she had heard gay comets talk in just this way before.

And by and by there came an end to this gay comet's fun.
She went a tiny bit too far—and vanished in the Sun!

No more she swings her shining trail before the whole world's sight,
But quiet stars she laughed to scorn are twinkling every night.


Ella Wheeler Wilcox

--Did You Know: (November 5, 1850–October 30, 1919) Wilcox was an American author and poet. Her best-known work was Poems of Passion. Her most enduring work was "Solitude", which contains the lines: "Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone". Her autobiography, The Worlds and I, was published in 1918, a year before her death. Ella Wheeler was born in 1850 on a farm in rural Johnstown, Wisconsin, east of Janesville, the youngest of four children. The family soon moved to north of Madison. She started writing poetry at a very early age, and was well known as a poet in her own state by the time she graduated from high school. When about 28 years of age, she married Robert Wilcox. They had one child, a son, who died shortly after birth. Not long after their marriage, they both became interested in Theosophy, New Thought, and Spiritualism. Read more at: E.W.Wilcox

--Word of the Day: duplicity \doo-PLIS-i-tee, dyoo-\, noun:
1. Deliberate deceptiveness in behavior or speech; also, an instance of deliberate deceptiveness; double-dealing.
2. The quality or state of being twofold or double.
Example:
Perhaps Phil was a spy, working at Gagosian but secretly in the employ of White Cube. Actually, now that the idea of duplicity had entered Jeff's mind, it occurred to him that his gallery was having a party to which Jeff had been conspicuously uninvited.
-- Geoff Dyer, Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi

--Quote of the Day: Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, even if your whole world seems upset.
- Saint Francis de Sales

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood
Pin It

September 19, 2010

A Game of Fives

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


--Description: 19th C, Carroll L., Childhood, Children, Humor-- 

 
Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One:
Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun.

Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six:
Sitting down to lessons - no more time for tricks.

Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven:
Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!

Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen:
Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you MEAN!"

Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one:
But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?

Five showy girls - but Thirty is an age
When girls may be ENGAGING, but they somehow don't ENGAGE.

Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more:
So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!

Five PASSE girls - Their age? Well, never mind!
We jog along together, like the rest of human kind:
But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he knows
The answer to that ancient problem "how the money goes"!



Lewis Carroll

--Did You Know: (27 January 1832 – 14 January 1898) Carroll was an English author, mathematician, logician, Anglican deacon and photographer. His most famous writings are Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and its sequel Through the Looking-Glass as well as the poems "The Hunting of the Snark" and "Jabberwocky", all examples of the genre of literary nonsense. He is noted for his facility at word play, logic, and fantasy.The young adult Charles Dodgson was about six feet tall, slender and deemed attractive, with curling brown hair and blue or grey eyes (depending on the account). He was described in later life as somewhat asymmetrical, and as carrying himself rather stiffly and awkwardly, though this may be on account of a knee injury sustained in middle age. As a very young child, he suffered a fever that left him deaf in one ear. At the age of seventeen, he suffered a severe attack of whooping cough, which was probably responsible for his chronically weak chest in later life. Another defect he carried into adulthood was what he referred to as his "hesitation", a stammer he acquired in early childhood and which plagued him throughout his life. Read more at: Lewis Carroll

--Word of the Day: billet-doux \bil-ay-DOO\, noun;
plural billets-doux \bil-ay-DOO(Z)\:
A love letter or note.
Example:
Perhaps she just looked first into the bouquet, to see whether there was a billet-doux hidden among the flowers; but there was no letter.
-- William Makepeace Thackeray, Vanity Fair

--Quote of the Day: Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week.
- Joseph Addison

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood
Pin It

September 16, 2010

Come and Play in the Garden

Bookmark and Share


Pin It

--Description: 19th C, Taylor J., Childhood, Children, Nature, Parenting--



Little sister, come away,
And let us in the garden play,
For it is a pleasant day.

On the grass let us sit,
Or, if you please, we'll play a bit,
And run about all over it.

But the fruit we will not pick,
For that would be a naughty trick,
And very likely make us sick.

Nor will we pluck the pretty flowers
That grow about the beds and bowers,
Because you know they are not ours.

We'll take the daisies, white and red,
Because mamma has often said
That we may gather then instead.

And much I hope we always may
Our very dear mamma obey,
And mind whatever she may say.


Jane Taylor

--Did You Know: Taylor's most famous work, "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," is almost always uncredited; "its opening stanza persists as if it were folklore, the name of its creator almost entirely forgotten." Alternate versions, pastiches, and parodies have abounded for centuries. Read more at: Jane Taylor

--Word of the Day: materfamilias (may-tuhr-fuh-MIL-ee-uhs)/ noun

The female head of a family, household, tribe, etc.
Example:
"Equally, as materfamilias, she [Queen Elizabeth] will have time to devote to the motherless Prince William, and to groom him for kingship while his father reigns."

--Quote of the Day: The child must know that he is a miracle, that since the beginning of the world there hasn't been, and until the end of the world there will not be, another child like him.
-Pau (Pablo) Casals)

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood
Pin It

September 14, 2010

All Nature Has a Feeling

Bookmark and Share


Pin It

--Description: 19th C, Clare J., Death, Life, Nature, Seasons-- 

All nature has a feeling: woods, fields, brooks
Are life eternal: and in silence they
Speak happiness beyond the reach of books;
There's nothing mortal in them; their decay
Is the green life of change; to pass away
And come again in blooms revivified.
Its birth was heaven, eternal it its stay,
And with the sun and moon shall still abide
Beneath their day and night and heaven wide.



John Clare

--Did You Know: Clare was an English poet, born the son of a farm labourer who came to be known for his celebratory representations of the English countryside and his lamentation of its disruption. His poetry underwent a major re-evaluation in the late 20th century and he is often now considered to be among the most important 19th-century poets . His biographer Jonathan Bate states that Clare was "the greatest labouring-class poet that England has ever produced. No one has ever written more powerfully of nature, of a rural childhood, and of the alienated and unstable self." Read more at: John Clare

--Word of the Day: soupcon \soop-SAWN\, noun:
A slight trace, as of a particular taste or flavor.
Example:
Perhaps Deneuve is too restrained to be a gay icon, but the little twinkle in her eye signals to the audience that her grandeur has to be taken with a soupcon of indulgent humour.
-- Peter Bradshaw, "Potiche: A French farce with feeling," The Guardian, September, 2010.

--Quote of the Day: The pursuit of happiness is a most ridiculous phrase: if you pursue happiness you'll never find it.
- C.P. Snow

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood
Pin It

September 11, 2010

Cheerfulness Taught By Reason

Bookmark and Share


Pin It
Photobucket


--Description: 19th C, Browning E.B., Encouragement, Hope--


I think we are too ready with complaint
In this fair world of God's. Had we no hope
Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope
Of yon gray blank of sky, we might grow faint
To muse upon eternity's constraint
Round our aspirant souls; but since the scope
Must widen early, is it well to droop,
For a few days consumed in loss and taint ?
O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted
And, like a cheerful traveler, take the road
Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread
Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod
To meet the flints ? At least it may be said
' Because the way is short, I thank thee, God. '


Elizabeth Barrett Browning


--Did You Know: March 6, 1806 – June 29, 1861) Browning was one of the most prominent poets of the Victorian era. She was the wife of poet Robert Browning, whom she married in secret due to objections by her father. Her poetry was widely popular in both England and the United States during her lifetime. The verse-novel Aurora Leigh, her most ambitious and perhaps the most popular of her longer poems, appeared in 1856. It is the story of a woman writer making her way in life, balancing work and love. The writings depicted in this novel are all based on similar, personal experiences that Elizabeth suffered through herself. The North American Review praised Elizabeth’s poem: “ Mrs. Browning’s poems are, in all respects, the utterance of a woman – of a woman of great learning, rich experience, and powerful genius, uniting to her woman’s nature the strength which is sometimes thought peculiar to a man.” Read more at: Elizabeth B. Browning

--Word of the Day: unctuous \UNGK-choo-us\, adjective:
1. Of the nature or quality of an unguent or ointment; fatty; oily; greasy.
2. Having a smooth, greasy feel, as certain minerals.
3. Insincerely or excessively suave or ingratiating in manner or speech; marked by a false or smug earnestness or agreeableness.
Example:
A warmed, crusty French roll arrives split, lightly smeared with unctuous chopped liver.
-John Kessler, "Meals To Go: Break from the routine with Hong", Atlanta Journal and Constitution, October 22, 1998

--Quote of the Day: The essence of optimism is that it takes no account of the present, but it is a source of inspiration, of vitality and hope where others have resigned; it enables a man to hold his head high, to claim the future for himself and not to abandon it to his enemy.
-Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood

Pin It

September 9, 2010

To The Queen of Hungary

Bookmark and Share


Pin It

--Description: 18th C, Voltaire., Nobility, Peace, War-- 


 
Princess, descended from that noble race
Which still in danger held the imperial throne,
Who human nature and thy sex dost grace,
Whose virtues even thy foes are forced to own.

The generous French, as fierce as they're polite,
Who to true glory constantly aspire;
Whilst obstinately they against thee fight,
Thy virtue and great qualities admire.

The French and Germans leagued by wondrous ties,
Make Christendom one dismal scene of woe;
And from their friendship greater ills arise,
Than e'er did from their longest quarrels flow.

Thus from the equator and the frozen pole,
The impetuous winds drive on with headlong force
Two clouds, which as they on each other roll,
Forth from their sable skirts the thunder force.

Do virtuous kings such ruin then ordain?
A calm they promise, but excite a storm:
Felicity we hope for from their reign,
Whilst they with slaughter dire the earth deform.

Oh! Fleury, wise and venerable sage,
Whom good ne'er dazzles, danger ne'er alarms;
Who dost exceed the ancient Nestor's age:
Must Europe never cease to be in arms?

Would thou couldst hold with prudent, steady hand,
Europa's balance, shut up Janus' shrine;
Make feuds and discords cease at thy command,
And bring from heaven Astrea, maid divine.

Would France's treasures were dispersed no more,
But prudently within the realm applied;
Opulence to our cities to restore,
And make them flourishing on every side.

You arts from heaven, and from the muses sprung,
Whom Louis brought triumphant into France;
Too long your hands are idle, lyres unstrung,
'Tis time to start from so profound a trance.

Your labors are of lasting glory sure,
Whilst warlike pomps, the triumphs of a day,
Blaze for a moment, never long endure,
But soon like fleeting shadows pass away.



Voltaire

--Did You Know: (November 21, 1694 – May 30, 1778), Fran├žois-Marie Arouet, better known by the pen name Voltaire, was a French Enlightenment writer, essayist, and philosopher known for his wit and his defence of civil liberties, including both freedom of religion and free trade. Voltaire was a prolific writer and produced works in almost every literary form including plays, poetry, novels, essays, historical and scientific works, more than 20,000 letters and more than 2,000 books and pamphlets. He was an outspoken supporter of social reform, despite strict censorship laws and harsh penalties for those who broke them. A satirical polemicist, he frequently made use of his works to criticize Catholic Church dogma and the French institutions of his day. Voltaire was one of several Enlightenment figures (along with Montesquieu, John Locke, Thomas Hobbes, and Jean-Jacques Rousseau) whose works and ideas influenced important thinkers of both the American and French Revolutions. Read more at: Voltaire

--Word of the Day: bilocation \bahy-loh-KEY-shuhn\, noun:
The state of being or the ability to be in two places at the same time.
Example:
If it could be bought, I'd gladly spend my whole inheritance on the power of bilocation. As it is, I have to settle for the odd morning when I half awake in two places - head in London, say, body in Los Angeles.
-- Robert Cremins, A sort of homecoming

--Quote of the Day: We first make our habits, and then our habits make us.
- John Dryden

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood
Pin It

September 7, 2010

The More Loving One

Bookmark and Share


Pin It
Photobucket


--Description: 20th C, Auden W.H., Love, Nature--



Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.


W. H. Auden

--Did You Know: (21 February 1907 – 29 September 1973) He signed his works W. H. Auden and was an Anglo-American poet, born in England, later an American citizen, regarded by many as one of the greatest writers of the 20th century.His work is noted for its stylistic and technical achievements, its engagement with moral and political issues, and its variety of tone, form and content. The central themes of his poetry are love, politics and citizenship, religion and morals, and the relationship between unique human beings and the anonymous, impersonal world of nature. Read more at: W.H. Auden

--Word of the Day: imbue\im-BYOO\, transitive verb:
1. To tinge or dye deeply; to cause to absorb thoroughly; as, "clothes thoroughly imbued with black."
2. To instill profoundly; to cause to become impressed or penetrated.
See the full Dictionary.com entry |See Synonyms on Thesaurus.com
Quote:
Beauty is equal parts flesh and imagination: we imbue it with our dreams, saturate it with our longings.
-Nancy Etcoff, Survival of the Prettiest

--Quote of the Day: "One can acquire everything in solitude except character."
-Stendhal (Marie-Henri Beyle)

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood

Pin It

September 6, 2010

Daddy Fell Into The Pond

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


--Description: 2, Noyes A., Humor, Childhood, Children, Parenting--




Everyone grumbled. The sky was grey.
We had nothing to do and nothing to say.
We were nearing the end of a dismal day,
And then there seemed to be nothing beyond,
Then
Daddy fell into the pond!

And everyone's face grew merry and bright,
And Timothy danced for sheer delight.
"Give me the camera, quick, oh quick!
He's crawling out of the duckweed!" Click!

Then the gardener suddenly slapped his knee,
And doubled up, shaking silently,
And the ducks all quacked as if they were daft,
And it sounded as if the old drake laughed.
Oh, there wasn't a thing that didn't respond
When
Daddy Fell into the pond!

Alfred Noyes

Happy Holidays - Get 15% off + Free Shipping on all orders at CoffeesOfHawaii.com with promo code HOLIDAY15 at checkout until 12/31/12. - 468 x 60

--Did You Know: (September 16, 1880 – June 25/June 28, 1958) Alfred Noyes was an English poet, best known for his ballads, The Highwayman (1906) and The Barrel Organ. Noyes was born in Wolverhampton, England, the son of Alfred and Amelia Adams Noyes. He attended Exeter College, Oxford, leaving before he had earned a degree. At 21, Noyes published his first collection of poems, The Loom Years. From 1903 to 1908, he published five additional volumes of poetry, including The Forest of Wild Thyme and The Flower of Old Japan and Other Poems. In 1918, he followed with a short story collection Walking Shadows, Sea Tales and Others, which included the tale "The Lusitania Waits", a ghost revenge tale based on the sinking of the Lusitania by a German submarine in 1915—although the story hinges on an erroneous claim that the submarine crew had been awarded the Goetz medal for sinking the ship). In 1924 Noyes published another collection, The Hidden Player. As a result of increasing blindness, Noyes began dictating his work. In 1953, he published an autobiography, Two Worlds for Memory. He wrote about sixty books, including poetry, novels, and short story collections. Read more at: Alfred Noyes

--Word of the Day: pasquinade / (pas-kwuh-NAYD) (noun):
noun: A satire or lampoon, especially one displayed in a public place.
Quote:
"Whether these soaps are a pasquinade mocking the education system here or a great landmark in popular culture is a question open to interpretation."
-Shweta Teoti; Ekta, a Threat to Women's Education; The Times of India (New Delhi); Oct 26, 2007.

--Quote of the Day: My father would take me to the playground, and put me on mood swings.
-Jay London

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Tazo

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood
Pin It
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

Subscribe RSS

coffee128

*Your AD or LINK

~ Place your site link or ad here!






Labels

 

Copyright ©2008-2012 Coffee Table Poetry For Tea Drinkers by V. Mahfood

Copyright © 2008-2010 Green Scrapbook Diary Designed by SimplyWP | Made free by Scrapbooking Software | Bloggerized by Ipiet Notez